#an all time fav

[bewilderedbunny]

"You sing to him, presenting his cake burning twenty-one yellow candles. He closes his eyes to keep the tears back, scrunching his face like he’s thinking childishly hard about what to wish for."

For You･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Pairing | Eddie Munson x sunshine!reader

Warnings | 18+ only, 2,700 words of tooth rotting fluff, followed by 2,000 words of pure smut, rounded off with a bit more fluff, swearing, oral (male receiving), vaginal sex, protected sex because this reader is responsible.

Word Count | ~4,840

A/N | Everything I write about Eddie exposes me more than any fic I’ve ever written. And yes, I think I will talk about Lord of the Rings in pretty much everything I write about him.

I thank a god I’ve never met, never loved, never wanted, for you

Catching sight of Eddie’s van through the window, you turn the burner off and jog from the kitchen, sliding along the floor in your frilly socks, just short of slamming into the wall. By the time Eddie’s walking up your drive, you’ve flung the door open. Excitement bubbling, you can’t stop yourself from bouncing on your feet.

“Happy Birthday, Eddie!” You yell, reaching out for him as he approaches. His smile sends a little heat through you he looks you up and down in your sundress. 

He’s so handsome, dressed for the late Summer heat. You love his jacket, love how he looks in it, but there’s something about Eddie in just one of his many band t-shirts. You can see the tattoos dotted over his pale arms, his bracelets, and his chain just peeking out from the frayed neckline of his shirt.

When Eddie reaches you, he lets you pull him into a hug, laughing at you still moving up and down.

“You’re more excited than I am,” he murmurs, pressing a short, sweet kiss to your lips.

“I love Birthdays.”

Keep reading

[a-drama-addict]

not caring too much about a fandom’s favourite guy is the worst. you’ll think “oh i’ll look into the tag see if anything new and cool’s there” and it’s just that fucking guy again

[spideyhexx]

may 15th!!

last year I watched the princess bride (1987)!!!

[so-you-read-the-usernames]

Female characters who are the sole voice of reason <<<<<<< Female characters who think of themselves as the sole voice of reason but who are actually just as insane as those around them

[bewilderedbunny]

𝘧𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 || eddie munson x reader

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 || eddie's been your dealer-with-benefits for just a few weeks now, but you didn't know that he had another friend to spend time with when you weren't available... a plastic friend that he keeps in one of his drawers.

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 || over 3k

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 || smut (18+ only, use of a fleshlight, penetrative/rough sex), dom!reader, sub/switch!eddie, slightly service top eddie?, reader is a proud slut, implied drug use, some fluff/feelings at the end, eddie being a sweet lil baby with a crush on his bimbo client

NO SPOILERS for stranger things in here!!! it's just smut with no relation to the plot of the show at all lmao

“Second drawer from the top,” he nodded in the direction he was indicating, and you bit your lip as you crossed the trailer to search for the goods.  

After this many months of getting your supply from Eddie, you knew your way around the place.  And on nights like this, when you were going to get high together, he let you get it out yourself while he prepped the grinder and papers.

“W-wait, not—” he started to correct you, because you were opening the second from the bottom, but it was too late.  You’d already seen it, and you looked over your shoulder with a grin on your face as he started to blush.

“What’s this?” you asked tauntingly, picking up the black plastic fleshlight.

“N-no, don’t touch that,” he warned, “you… you don’t know where that’s been.”

“Oh, I think I do,” you grinned, standing up and starting to walk towards him.  “It’s been around your cock, right?”

He stammered, but didn’t really say anything, as you sauntered towards the couch and admired the beauty of his flustered expression. 

“Is this what you use when I have enough cash to pay for my shit the right way?” you wondered.  But he probably thought the other way was the right way… it started small, jerking him off for a dime bag, letting him feel your tits so he’d share a joint with you.  When you wanted enough to last you a while, you’d suck him off or ride him right here on this couch— or in his van, if you didn’t have time to go down to the trailer park for a deal.  And you could tell he was getting a little clingy, now, wanting more and more of you, offering ‘free’ stuff if he could fuck you again.  

Honestly, he was a good fuck, so there were times that you saved your money and just pretended you didn’t have enough cash to get your dose.  You’d come here tonight with plenty to pay for it properly, but now… now you had new ideas.

“Is this what you fuck when you can’t fuck me, Eddie?” you continued taunting, sitting down beside him and looking at the toy more closely.  “It’s better than just jerking off with your hand, right?”

“Y-yeah,” he admitted, voice cracking.  “Yeah, it’s better.”

“Looks like it feels alright,” you shrugged, playing with the soft plastic end, modeled in the shape of a ‘generic’ vulva… not nearly as beautiful as the real thing.  “Does it feel good when you fuck this, Eddie?”

He choked, but eventually nodded, and watched you slip a finger into the hole to feel the texture.

“Yeah, I can see the appeal,” you decided.  “How do you use it— you put lube on first, right?”

“A-and a condom,” he added.  “Easier to keep it clean…”

“That’s smart,” you smirked.  “You fuck me without a condom, but sure, give the toy some courtesy—”

“I— I would’ve used one if you asked!” he insisted.  “You said we didn’t need it—”

“I’m teasing you, Ed,” you rolled your eyes.  “I just think it’s funny.  You’re so careful with your toy, but so reckless with me… you don’t fuck any other clients raw, do you?”

“N-no,” he answered, “I don’t fuck any other clients at all… I… I actually don’t get laid that often.”

“Really?” you pressed, voice heavy with sarcasm.  “That wasn’t obvious to me already considering you’re a social pariah and came in half a minute when I blew you.”

He swallowed, and you laughed, remembering how sweet it was when he came all over your face in a matter of moments— and started apologizing before he’d even finished.  You promised it was fine— because actually, it was fucking hot— and he finally shut up when he watched you use your fingers to gather his come from your face and start licking it up.  What are you doing? he’d gasped.  Well, I can’t go back out there like this, can I? you’d replied.

“Still, I didn’t think you had this little number to come home to,” you giggled, admiring the piece.  “Does she have a name?”

“I-it’s not a she,” he sighed, “it’s just an it.  Can… can we smoke now, or what?”

“No, I wanna hear more about this first,” you insisted, and he groaned in frustration.  “You didn’t give it a name, but… do you say a name when you’re fucking it?”

Of course, you knew the answer when he looked away quickly.  

“Oh, baby, you can tell me,” you promised as you moved in a little closer.  “Whose name do you say?”

“Y-yours,” he admitted, finally, and you laughed quietly again.

“That’s cute.  You pretend it’s me?”

He nodded.

“Oh,” you smiled, “you must be very good at pretending.  Because this thing isn’t nearly as good as me.”

You heard the way his throat caught on itself, and the way he breathed shakily as you reached forward to start opening his belt and fly.  He lifted his hips to help you pull his jeans down, but you didn’t need to— you just reached into his boxers and pulled his cock out, surprised to find it already hard.

“Shit, Eddie, when’d you get a boner?” you giggled.

“Wh-when you said you were coming over,” he relented as you grinned, stroking him slowly.  

“I’ve got you trained good, huh?” you noticed.  “I told you I was bringing cash.  You still hoped something would happen, right?  But did you think this would happen?”

He shook his head.

“Put a finger in the toy for me, Eddie,” you instructed, and he did as he was told right away.  “It’s not like me, is it?  What does it feel like when you put a finger in me?”

“Feels like…” he breathed, looking down at where your hand was wrapped around his cock.  “Feels like it’ll barely fit.”

“Mm, that’s right,” you agreed.  “This toy isn’t that tight, you can only feel one wall at a time when you put a finger in.  Guess it doesn’t matter when you’ve got this big cock to fill it up, right?”

He grunted through his teeth, and you stroked him a little faster.

“Still, it feels so much better to stretch me out, doesn’t it?  Loosen me up a bit?”

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath.  “Yeah, it feels better t-to fuck you.  So much better.”

“And this toy, it can’t get wet for you,” you said like you were just realizing it.  “That’s so sad…”

“You’re always so wet,” he remembered with a little groan.

“Not always, Eddie,” you purred, “just when I’m around you.”

“Oh, god,” he moaned, head falling back on the couch.  You leaned forward and spit down onto the head of his dick, spreading it with your hand so you’d have a smoother go of it, and you felt his cock flex in your palm.  “Fuck, that… feels really good…”

“Yeah?” you encouraged.  “But the toy feels better than jerking off, that’s what you told me.  How about I let you fuck that?”

“O-oh, um,” he stammered, “I— I just wanna fuck you.  Please?  You can ride me if you want.”

You snorted— if you want.  Like it was a favor to you, and not him desperate to the point of begging.  You loved that begging… and unfortunately for him, you wanted more.  Ignoring his request, you took your hand off of him and grabbed the toy with your dominant hand instead— and slipped it down onto his erection.

“Shit,” he hissed, “please— it’s not as good, you know it’s not—”

“But it’s good enough,” you reminded him, your tone getting a little more stern as you moved the toy up and down over his dick.  “It’s good enough for you to fuck this thing, what, a few times a week?”

“More like every night,” he admitted.  “I… I fuck it a lot.  Sometimes more than that.”

“Really getting your money’s worth, huh?” you mocked.  “Tell me, did this cost more or less than it does to give me free drugs so you can fuck me?”

“M-more,” he answered.

“Funny, how my pussy’s so much cheaper but so much more valuable,” you grinned.  “I’ve always been a bit of a cheap whore, Eddie— you probably know that about me.”

“I… I never thought that about you,” he promised.

“You didn’t hear the rumors?” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

“I did,” he admitted, “but I didn’t believe them…”

“Do you believe them now?” 

You were surprised to see him shake his head.  “You’re so much more than that,” he insisted, and you stuck your bottom lip out a bit.

“Awww, baby,” you cooed, “you’re a bit of a romantic, aren’t you?  Tell me, then— what do you think about when you’re fucking this?  Pretending it’s me and all… what do I say, what do I do?”

“I— I don’t know,” he breathed, and you stopped moving the toy instantly— he tried to move his hips a bit to keep the pace going, but stopped when he caught himself.

“Don’t lie, Eddie,” you warned.  “I like you because you’re honest.  Don’t mess that up.”

He smiled slightly, eyes tinted with hope as he looked at you.  “You like me?”

You rolled your eyes.  “No, I can’t stand the sight of you, that’s why I’m hopping on your dick every other time we meet up,” you answered sarcastically.  “Geez, Eddie, are you stupid or something?”

You heard that whimper, the one he tried to suppress.  “N-no,” he denied half-heartedly.

“Do you get a little stupid for pussy, though?” you wondered, and he forgot to answer when you started moving the toy again— proving your point exactly.

“Ohh god, baby,” he whined, clearly frustrated as his fists held on tightly to the sofa beneath him.  

“You were gonna tell me what you imagine me doing, when you’re fucking your little friend here,” you reminded him.

“I— I think about you getting on top of me,” he began to describe, eyes falling shut— you hoped he was imagining it now— “and kissing me… asking me to fuck you…”

Wow, kissing and then asking for consent.  Doesn’t get much more vanilla than that.  Good thing you found his innocence endearing— well, good thing for him.  Not so good for you, as you were trying to avoid catching feelings.  Normally you liked fucking guys because of the way they looked at you— in awe, amazed.  And Eddie certainly did that, but you actually liked fucking him, you liked how he felt inside you and how he kissed your neck while he warned you that he was close.  You’d told him so yourself, you knew those praises pushed him closer to the edge— but you failed to mention he was the only guy that you liked feeling inside you anymore.

You failed to mention he was the only guy you never faked it with.

“What else?” you prompted.

“And then I fuck you,” he said plainly.

“How?”

“Hard.”

It was your turn to bite your lip.  Good thing his eyes were closed or he would’ve seen how his words were affecting you.  “And what do I do when you fuck me hard, Eddie?”

“You… moan, a lot,” he mumbled.  

“Oh, that’s right— this toy can’t moan for you either, can it?  Wow, you poor thing.  Nobody here to tell you how good you fuck me.”

“God,” he whined through his teeth, and you moved the toy faster and faster over him— watching him thrust up his hips to meet it halfway.  

“It’s such a shitty substitute for me, but you’re still so desperate for it,” you observed.  “Are you always this desperate, baby?”

“Not always,” he breathed, smirking a little, “just when I’m around you.”

Hearing him repeat what you’d said before took you by surprise— and Eddie didn’t surprise you often.  He was pretty predictable.  He surprised you that first time you did something like this, by— bizarrely enough— giving you a hug after you’d given him a handjob.  Guys, overall, tended to react the same way to offers of sexual favors or to seeing your tits and all that, but that was new.  And weird.  But sort of sweet?  Mostly weird though.  He surprised you again by making you come when he fucked you, but that was a much more pleasant surprise.  

Still, overall, you’d gotten the hang of him and his habits pretty quickly.  He liked to kiss your neck, he liked to watch your tits bounce while you were riding him, he held onto your hips and kept you down if you tried to get off too soon… what he didn’t do was hit you with little witty remarks like that one, and totally throw you off your game.  Guess he didn’t get quite as stupid for pussy as you thought.

“You look cute,” you noticed, “fucking your toy for me.  You usually fuck it faster, don’t you?  You don’t like to take your time with it or anything?”

“I usually just wanna come,” he replied, “as fast as possible.”

The thought of him so pent up, fucking his fleshlight as he moaned your name, was… exciting, to say the least.  You wondered if he ever did this while his uncle was home, across the trailer sleeping— did he have to bite his fist to keep quiet?  That was extra exciting.  “Do you wanna come now?” you asked.

“Not like this,” he pleaded, “not— not in the toy, when you’re right there…”

“Yeah, I’m right here,” you grinned, “but what if I wanna see—”

He didn’t even let you finish.  “Fuck, don’t make me come in the toy, please,” he begged.  “You like how I fuck you, right?  I’ll do whatever you like, baby, please…”

That would be a tempting offer if it wasn’t always true.  You simply picked up the pace again, making sure to push the toy all the way down to the base of him each time; he whined and gripped the sofa tighter.

“You can touch me instead, if you want,” you offered with a purr.  “You can feel my tits— go ahead, Eddie, I’ll lift my shirt up for you—”

“No,” he choked out.  There he goes, surprising you again…

“No?”

“No, I’ll come,” he clarified with a grunt.  “If I feel your tits right now, if I even see them, I’ll fucking come— and I don’t wanna come in the toy, I wanna fuck you so bad, please baby—!”

“Shh, don’t get all worked up,” you smiled, “I’m gonna let you come in me, Eddie.  Is that what you want?” 

“Yes!” he shouted, “fuck yes— thank you…”

Oh, that thank you, it tugged at your heart more than you expected.  “You just gotta promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

You smiled proudly.  “I want you to fuck me the way you fuck that toy when I’m not here, okay?”

Pulling the fleshlight off of his cock, you watched it bob in the air helplessly for a second.

“I’m your toy now,” you told him, and he instantly launched forward to capture you in a kiss.

“You’re so much more than that,” he mumbled against your lips after a moment of it, and you resisted the urge to melt into his arms.  He kissed you harder, deeper, needier— and just about when you expected him to pull you onto his lap, he stood up instead.  “Hold onto the back of the couch,” he ordered.  Well, you weren’t one to say no to that.

When you were bent over on your knees, holding the couch diligently, he yanked your shorts and underwear down and instantly speared you onto his cock.  “Fuck!” you shouted, toes curling from the stretch— yes, you were dripping wet, but he was still a lot to take.

“So much better,” he sighed, “fuck, you’re perfect.”

He grabbed your hips and set a ruthless pace— fast and rough, filling you to the brim every time.  This must be the way he fucks the toy, desperate to come above all else… and you loved it.  You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, even though the force of his thrusts made you feel like the wind was getting knocked out of you.  He moved one hand up from your hips to your shoulder, keeping you from getting too far away so he could go as deep as possible; your eyes rolled back in your head.  “Eddie,” you sobbed.

“Louder,” he demanded.

“Eddie!”

“Fuck, that’s it,” he sighed, “want everyone to hear you… they can all hear you, baby, keep going.”

And you did, screaming his name like you’d forgotten every other word— which wasn’t too far from the truth.  You realized, then, that he really didn’t want you to be his toy.  He just wanted you to be his.

“I’m close,” he groaned, so quiet it was hard to hear him over your own cries, “I’m gonna come inside you…”

“Come in me,” you encouraged, “come for me, Eddie— I’m yours.”

You said it because it was true, not because you knew it was what he wanted to hear.  But, it still made him come in an instant.  He held onto your hips and keeled over as he buried himself deep, giving you every drop and making you feel so beautifully full.  He kept coming for a while, and you hummed happily as he started to catch his breath.  “Fuck,” he panted, resting his forehead on the back of your shoulder, “I came too fast, I-I’m sorry—”

“No, it’s okay, I wanted you to,” you promised.

“But you didn’t,” he sighed.

“Don’t worry about it,” you laughed, “that’s another thing toys can’t do.”

“And that’s another reason why you’re so much better,” he replied, reaching down under you to slip his hand between your legs.  His fingers started to gently circle your clit, just below where he was still inside you.  You whined, and you heard him growl as you tensed up inside.  “See, that— the way you grip me… I wanna feel you come, baby, do you think you still can?”

If anything, your problem was just going to be how easy it was— you’d gotten way too close from just a minute of being fucked like that, it was embarrassing.  Well, it should’ve been embarrassing.  But you weren’t as self-conscious about it as you thought you would be.

His fingers found a pattern, not too much pressure but still plenty, as they rubbed circles on your bud.  You kept whimpering, trying to rock your hips back onto him, but he held you still to keep you from moving too much on his sensitive cock.  “Just stay still, I’m gonna make you come, okay?” he breathed.  

It was all about you, you weren’t really used to that.  Actually, you weren’t at all used to that.  Nobody had ever taken the time to make sure you came… even Eddie just usually made it happen on accident.

“Oh god,” you heard yourself gasp— you were fighting it, though you weren’t sure why.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s my girl.”

Yours.  You came with a gasp of his name, your back arching deeper as he kissed along the line of your shoulder.  He kept showering you in praise, letting you ride it out before he gently pulled you down to lay with him on the couch— careful never to let his cock slip out, keeping you full and warm as you started to relax.

It took you a minute to come back to reality, and you squeezed his hand at the end of where his arm was wrapped around you, holding you tightly against him.

“You’re full of surprises, you know that, Eddie?” you smiled.

“What does that mean?” he chuckled.

Really, though, it wasn’t just that he managed to surprise you from time to time.  It was the way that he made you surprise yourself.  Maybe not all guys were the same, and maybe he was right: maybe you were so much more than what they thought you were.

[lucdoodle]

drew greg doing the spooky month dance

[willgrahamscock]

POOLVERINE + Text Posts 

[irhabiya]

henry how fucking long did it take you to make this

[bewilderedbunny]

you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down. 

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery. 

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.” 

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later. 

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head. 

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere. 

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.” 

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?” 

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?” 

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.” 

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?” 

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?” 

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow. 

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on. 

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you. 

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch. 

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before. 

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears. 

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough. 

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.” 

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.” 

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.” 

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.” 

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly. 

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.” 

“You’re disgusting,” you spit. 

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.” 

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death. 

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.” 

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily. 

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.” 

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.” 

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.” 

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper. 

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge. 

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.” 

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.” 

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat. 

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.” 

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes. 

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story. 

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you. 

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…” 

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

[subwhizz]

Cuddling night 🌙 💤

The Starved-touch idiots

And macaque being homeless for another season. What are the oods.

[sopuu]

back to my undertale roots

[cryptocism]

a dænce of roëmænce

depictions of the ace experience never seem to include the nightmare-borne skeleton creature from hell so kudos to the dimension 20 team for their commitment to accurate rep

[bewilderedbunny]

"Eddie pulls you up by the back of the neck gently so he can look into your unfocused eyes. "

iii agree!!! frazzled eddie is so important to the ecosystem!! esp. because he’s so head over heels for you that any little thing you do could make him a stammering mess. like if he’s distracted after a week of long busy days and you catch him off guard with some bonkers lingerie and he’s just a goner when you take control 🫠🫠🫠

Vixen

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, PIV sex, teasing, lingerie, not exactly Virgin!Eddie but def inexperienced!Eddie

I’ve said this before, but Eddie Munson acts like he’s been shot if you surprise him with something sexy. Like he smacks his hand over his chest and drops to the fucking floor gasping. But that’s when he’s more used to it. After you’ve done it a few times and his confidence has built up.

The first time you surprise him with lingerie, the man stops breathing. You’ve only hooked up twice before, only one time ending in sex, so things are still really new. The two of you are making out on your bed when Eddie’s fumbling fingers begin undoing the buttons of your shirt. You take this as progress, because the last two times you’d had to divest yourself of your own clothing because Eddie had been so nervous and hesitant to overstep.

When he reveals the lace of your bra, you feel his entire body seize and his eyes go wide taking it in. You wait for him to do something but when he doesn’t, you laugh.

“Something wrong, Eds?”

“Is…is this…?”

“You’ve seen me in a bra before, Eddie,” you tease, wrapping your hand over the back of his to encourage his palm to grasp over your lace-enclosed breast. Eddie’s eyelids flutter but he continues trying to make his point.

“Yeah but this…this is…”

“Lingerie? Yep!” you say brightly. He swallows thickly and you can’t handle it. His reaction is so adorable you need to mess with him a little. You lean up and whisper in his ear. “And it’s even part of a set.”

You lean back to watch his brain short circuit. Eddie tries to take a breath but it’s shaky. So much for him undressing you himself, but then again, this is so worth it. You reach between the two of you and shimmy out of your shorts, revealing a pair of matching lace panties. Eddie’s gaze slowly travels the length of your body to take in the second part of your set and then his eyes snap back up to yours.

“O-ok so you just wear this around the house, or…”

“Eddie. I wore this for you. I knew you were coming over. I wanted to have sex. I put this on so you - Eddie Munson - could see me in it.”

“Oh I see you, Princess,” Eddie practically moans in appreciation.

His hands fidget at your sides, fingers pressing into the curve and flesh of your waist as if he doesn’t want to do the wrong thing.

“Good,” you purr as you peel his hands from your sides and place one over your breast and bring the other down to your mound. “Now take it off me.”

Eddie swallows again and shifts so that he’s able to to take in the full length of your lace clad body. He swipes a hand across the exposed swath of skin between your bra and panties before dipping back down to firmly cup you between the thighs.

“Is it weird if I ask you to…can we keep it on?”

The use of ‘we’ has you giggling, but you think it might also be a build up of horniness and fondness that’s tipping you towards hysteria.

“We can do whatever you want,” you reply with a smile, reaching up to touch his face. The grin he gives you in return is so dazzling that you feel like you stop breathing, a feeling compounded by the way he immediately yanks you into a lung crushing kiss.

It’s like a switch has been flipped after that. Eddie’s hands become more sure, more solid in their grasp. And grasp you he does. As his tongue plunders your mouth his hands navigate your every dip, curve, and plane. He squeezes, too, paying special attention to the places that make you squeal and gasp appreciatively against his lips.

Eddie drags his teeth down the gauzy strap of your bra and runs his tongue over the flimsy, unpadded material that covers your nipple. This causes you to convulse under his hold and soon you’re scrabbling at his shoulders, trying to haul him up to you.

“Alright alright, c’mon just…” you huff against his lips, trying to reach further than you really can in this position to push his sweatpants off his hips. Eddie chuckles but you can tell he’s flustered as he reaches down and helps you, letting his cock spring up so fast it smacks against his abdomen and bounces back to tap on your lace covered cunt. You let out a moan and lift your hips to grind up against him as best you can.

“It’s like you fucking watched my dreams or something, Princess. How are you so - fuck.” He cuts himself off when you take hold of his length and press the underside against the length of your slit, giving yourself something solid to grind on. The fabric is rough against his sensitive skin but it’s soaked through with your slick and he finds himself groaning with full throated abandon.

“So you don’t want to take it off, you want me like this?” You ask, sliding the gusset of your panties to the side and giving him full view of your wet pussy. You’re not even teasing or trying to wind him up at this point. You’re just so turned on and you want to get to it - but you also want him to have exactly what he wants.

“Jesus H Christ yeah, c-can I? Can I just…oh god…” Even as he asks, Eddie glides his tip over your wet folds, losing himself in the feeling of you so much so that his eyes roll back.

“Yes, please Eddie,” you clarify, pulling at his inked biceps in an effort to get him to push in, but your sweet boy hesitates. He blinks open his eyes and furrows his brows.

“Y-yeah but I have to get you ready first…right? Want to make sure it feels good and that I don’t - fuck! That I don’t hurt you.” He keeps losing his train of thought as you grip his cock in an attempt to line him up with your entrance, but he keeps his hips lifted so you can’t push him further.

Your entire body melts at the sentiment, warmth blooming in your stomach and spreading through your bloodstream. It’s more than fondness you feel for the flustered, considerate man above you. You thread your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck and pull him down for a blistering kiss.

“You’re a good guy, Eddie Munson,” you breathe against his lips, and you practically feel the heat radiating off him as his blush spreads further and deeper, as though he doesn’t already have his cock in your hands and his body mashed to yours.

You take advantage of this moment of distraction to throw your leg over his and roll, flipping the two of you so that his back hits the mattress and you’re straddling his hips.

“I promise, I’m more than ready. And this will feel good. For both of us.” And with that you sink down onto his cock.

It’s a stretch and it aches, for sure. For the most part his instincts and worries were correct. He’s big. But you were also correct in saying that you were ready. You’re dripping and clenching and you need him. He’s inside you but it’s not enough. Especially not when he’s grabbing your thighs in order to stay grounded and squeezing his eyes shut against the pleasure, gasping.

When you start to move, Eddie looks like he’s lost his mind. He gazes up at you, eyes darting as if he’s not sure where to look - starting at the place where you’re joined, where your pussy takes him in until your hips roll up and expose the shaft of his cock, gleaming with your slick. He looks at your lips, parted and plump, taking in gasping inhales; your eyes which watch him with lust and wanting.

But Eddie settles his gaze on your breasts. Encased in lace and bouncing as you bounce on his cock. He’s biting his lip so hard you worry he’ll bleed, and his fingers are making bruises in your thighs from the force of his fixation.

“Here,” you say, prying his hands from your thighs and bringing them up to support your breasts. His eyes go wide and he squeezes as a reflex, watching your plush flesh dimple beneath his fingers, threatening to spill for the cups of your bra.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask, breathless, laughing at the fact that he looks almost in pain.

“I’m thinking that you can’t be real. I read one too many dirty magazines and I smoked a bad strain and - oh god.” Eddie throws his head back against the pillow in ecstasy. You follow him down so he doesn’t lose purchase on your breasts. Bearing your weight down on him with your hands anchored on his chest you roll your hips, moving up and down on him faster. Eddie struggles to continue his train of thought.

“I’m worried I’m high out of my mind and that I’m hallucinating you. A vixen my - fuck! A vixen my masochistic mind made up to terrorize me.”

You laugh at his dramatics and lean further down to mouth at his jaw. He shudders beneath you and you clench, making him moan.

“Yeah? Worried you’ll sober up and realize you were humping the bed?” You tease. You slide a hand down his chest, over his abdomen and to your clit, inhaling sharply at your own additional stimulation. “Or that you’re tugging on your dick by yourself?”

“Jesus f-fuck,” he grits out.

“Well you’re not, Eddie. I’m here and you’re fucking me,” you whisper in his ear, relishing in the way goosebumps spring up noticeably on his skin. You speed up your ministrations on your clit and your voice hits a higher pitch to match the desperation in your pistoning hips. “You’re doing so well, Eddie. You make me…oh.”

Eddie’s hands move to your ass now, taking over in a way he hasn’t before. He grips your curves and pulls your pelvis against his, lifting up to rut deep into you so that you cry out. Your eyes widen as he starts to thrust his hips up into you, setting a new pace that’s entirely his own. Your jaw drops and he swallows your gasps when you realize he’s now in control.

“I didn’t thank you for the surprise,” he whispers hoarsely against your skin. You can’t reply to ask him what he means. Not with him now repeatedly hitting that spot deep inside you that has you seeing stars. Thankfully he keeps going. “Dressed up all pretty for me.”

“Oh god, yes Eds. Just for you.”

Eddie pulls you up by the back of the neck gently so he can look into your unfocused eyes.

“For me? All this, just for me, yeah?”

The words are teasing. The nature of the words send a thrill up your spine as you realize this is a glimpse of what he might soon become when his confidence grows and he becomes more comfortable with being intimate with you. But you can still hear the sincerity of the question. The need for confirmation and validation.

“Yeah Eddie. It’s all yours,” you confirm with a frantic nod. Eddie’s eyes get impossibly darker and he groans. His eyes flash down and he grabs one of your breasts.

“Your tits? These mine?” He asks and you buck down into him at the way he squeezes the flesh, rolling your nipple.

“Yes.”

“What about this right here?” he asks, sliding down to your pussy. His hand nudges yours away and he swirls his finger around your clit making you cry out.

“Oh god yes!”

His hand goes up to your throat and pulls you down then for a deep kiss full of longing and questions and answers and you lose the conversation for a moment, just feeling Eddie and your impending release.

When he pulls back his thumb presses against your wet lower lip.

“These?” He asks, swiping over your lip. You can only nod.

It’s then, under the pressure of his eye contact that you fall apart. You ascend, calling out his name and arching back, trying to push him as deep into you as possible to ride out the contractions of your orgasm.

In the fog of your come down you vaguely register him rolling you onto your back again, thrusting hastily till he’s outwardly panting.

He pulls out of you too soon, leaving you empty and aching, but you smile wide at the look of pleasure and agony on his features as he pumps his own cock.

“Oh god oh fuck,” he slurs as he finally cums, his release painting across the lace of your panties which he’d hastily pushed back over your wet cunt.

He hangs his head when he’s finally milked himself dry, holding himself up with his hands on either side of your waist. Panting as he tries to get control of his breath.

When he finally speaks, he gives you a sheepish smile.

“I…I think I ruined it,” he says, gesturing to your messy lingerie. You laugh and pull him down ontop of you, pressing the mess of your pelvises between you.

“Good. You owe me a new set Munson. And I think I like having you in my debt,” you tease, nipping at his ear.

“I’m always in your debt, my vixen,” he mumbles, kissing you on the neck.

~*~

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[suntails]

airplane!

[cloud-ya]

finally beat dark gaia today, had to draw werehog about it

[borgialucrezia]

ANORA (2024) dir. by sean baker mikey madison as anora "ani" mikheeva

"I was excited about playing a character like this, because she’s very complicated. I always wanted an audience to recognize her pain underneath everything."